Although not a practitioner, I am generally supportive of heterosexuality. It created me. I was raised by heterosexuals. My family is infested with them. Some of my best friends are... And there's that continuity-of-the-species thing.
But sometimes...
I caught a few seconds of Maury Povitch today. Not only would it fan the flames of anti-black racism with its endless supply of interchangeable ghetto trash...but you'd have to wonder about heterosexuality, since almost all the grotesque behavior is between men and women. It's a place where The War Between The Sexes is literal. And ugly. Really vile. The Roman Coliseum, USA version.
Some further unseasonable thoughts. If, in contemporary America, an entrepreneurial Jew decided to open a minstrel theater where blacks performed all sorts of undignified acts for the amusement and contempt of the audience, all hell would break loose. But here is Mr. Povitch, grown rich by adopting the role of advocate and sympathetic counselor while the African-Americans freely offer themselves up five days a week to perform every repulsive stereotype of which their race is suspected. Except it's supposed to be reality, not musical fiction. And we're not allowed to notice what is going on. And it's a hit with everyone. But God forbid some Caucasian on the radio say "nappy headed" or "nigger" and the Apocalypse unfolds.
Stretches my First Amendment loyalty to the limit.
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